They sat around a round table, staring out at the city, with a light breeze in their hair, the orange sun dipping to their sides, and delicacies at their fingertips. Karas, known here as Kara Longford, told them her story, and hearing it all, Silvie couldn’t stop shaking her head in wonder.

She’d arrived in Nevada, as they had—why Nevada, she didn’t know. A ten-year-old girl, she was lost and terrified on a highway that led to the big city of lights. She tried to be brave those first few days but couldn’t stop crying.

There was no shortage of people willing to help a little girl who needed food and money, but none of them had any answers for her, and they all looked at her as if she’d lost her mind when she asked about the Horde or the Shataiki.

She took up with an old man who lived under a bridge after a week of wandering. “Scotty,” he called himself, after a character from an old show called Star Trek. Unlike others, Scotty’s eye lit up when she talked about the Horde and the Books of History. And thank Elyon, because if not for Scotty, she would have undoubtedly been committed to the fruit farm, a colloquial expression for a mental hospital.

Outside of Scotty’s protective oversight, she became known as the little girl who would take your head off at the drop of a hat. A mental case, to be sure.

It wasn’t until she went through therapy years later that she figured out what was wrong those first few months. Her emotions had been affected by the transition between the future and the Histories.

“Really?” Johnis shot Silvie a look of understanding.

“You’ve noticed?” Karas asked.

“I think it’s what got us into trouble with the Chevy,” Silvie said. “Johnis practically went berserk.”

Johnis grinned sheepishly. “It did bring a few of our feelings to the surface.”

Karas lifted an eyebrow, looking from one to the other. “Don’t worry; it passes.”

“We’re not looking for it to pass,” Silvie said. “Ever.”

“I’m not talking about the love you’ve vowed for each other on the Net. I’m talking about the raw emotions caused by the transition between worlds. And your thinking feels a bit sluggish, right?”

“Careless. A little stupid, maybe. We’re stuck with this?”

“No. The fact is, your mind isn’t sluggish. Just the opposite. Your intelligence is well advanced over the average person here, so far advanced that it’s struggling to compensate for the surge of emotional responses filtering through your mind. At least that’s my best guess after the countless rounds of psychological testing I subjected myself to in an attempt to understand.”

“But you’re saying our minds will compensate soon enough?”

Karas nodded. “Have you noticed anything else?”

“Speed,” Johnis said.